Dude, What the Heck?
by BloodRansom
Summary: A crazy mix between LOTR, Eragon, Legend of the Seeker, and Star Wars. Disclaimer: Randomness is prevalent. We are not liable for injury due to falling off chairs with laughter. You have been warned.  T for comic macabre themes and alcohol drug refrences.
1. Introduction

A/N Ok, so my brother and I had this thought…a long time ago. But we only just recently considered the possibility of it being a fanfic. Which, of course, is a marvelous idea, because then you guys can enjoy our weird, crazy minds as well.

**So basically what I'm gonna do to explain this weird, wacky, wonderful story to you, is have some of our main characters interview me. I hope it helps give you an idea of what the heck is going on here. But even if it doesn't, it should be entertaining (and that tends to be the point of these things), and you'll figure out what's going on as the story progresses.**

**I'll introduce you to our interviewers now, I guess. If you don't know who some of these guys are, Google them. I'll tell you what story they're from.**

Eragon (I hope you all know who this guy is)

**Durza (The Shade from Eragon)**

**Saruman (The big, bad wizard from Lord of the Rings, hereafter referred to as LOTR)**

**Legolas (You **_**should**_** all know who he is…but if you don't, he's the most amazing elf in LOTR)**

**Richard Cipher (Chances are, you have no clue who this freak is. Look up Legend of the Seeker, the TV show)**

**Darken Rahl ((He's from Legend of the Seeker as well)**

**Ok, so that's our list of interviewers…two from each starring story. **

**Disclaimer: The characters' attitudes, attributes, personalities, and all other aspects of these freaks, have been hijacked, and completely perverted from their original selves. So don't be surprised if they seem totally wacked out. Cause they are. For example, Richard Cipher is now "the seeker of fingers and pot roast". Don't ask, just read. My brother's mind is a strange place. But yeah, just don't freak out.**

Dang. Long Author's Note. Oh, well, had to be done. If you read the whole thing, I applaud you. Review, and I'll give you a shout-out next chapter

Me: Ok, so you guys ready?

Legolas: Hold on, let me finish…

Me: What the heck are you doing, dude?

Legolas: Brushing my hair. It's so long, and blonde, and beautiful…

Me: Ok, how about the rest of you?

Legolas: Slender and graceful.

Me: I was asking the rest of the guys.

Legolas: …Oh. *Pouts *

Durza: I am ready. *Snickers * Dum-dum?

Saruman: Yeeeeeeeessssss?????

Durza: Are you ready?

Saruman: Yes.

Richard: Heehee.

Darken Rahl: I love it when he does that. Heehee!

Eragon: Dude, what the heck?

Me: Ok, good. Now…are you guys gonna start asking me questions?

Durza: Of course! Do you like cookies?

Me:…Um, yeah, but what does this have to do with anything?

Durza: Everything! I love cookies.

Legolas: I have one.

Me: Yes?

Legolas: Can I borrow your hairbrush?

Me: Uh, sure…why?

Richard: We're supposed to ask the questions, silly.

Me: Gosh, sorry. Here you go, Legolas.

Darken Rahl: Lalalalalala!!!!!!!!

Richard: Can I have your finger?

Darken Rahl: He's pulling on my finger!!!!! Stop it!!!! Stop it!!!!

Me: Guys, cut it out. Or do I need to separate you?

Richard and Darken Rahl: No.

Me: Ok, good.

Eragon: Ok, I have a sensible question.

Me: Ok.

Eragon: Dude, so, like, what's with this Jeff dude?

Me: Um, yeah, see…he's the elf that tells Arwen to come back in Return of the King…when she runs away. The rest of the elves are on their way to the Undying Lands.

Eragon:What's that?

Me: Do you want me to answer your original question?

Eragon: Yeppers.

Me: Ok, so basically, my brother started making fun of him…calling him pathetic and stuff, and so now he's kinda morphed into Arwen's personal attendant…who's just a little stupid and creepy. Kinda gives off a stalker vibe, ya know?

Darken Rahl: *Points at Richard * He's a stalker!

Me: Come on, guys. Questions!

Saruman: Did someone mention cookies?

Durza: *Glares at him, and then shakes his head * That was _much_ earlier, Dum-dum.

Saruman: Yeeeeeessssss??????

Richard: Heehee.

Darken Rahl: I love it when he does that. Heehee!

Legolas: I have one.

Me: Ok

Legolas: Why does Saruman respond when Durza calls him Dum-dum?

Durza: Because it's his true name. And true names don't lie. They tell all about your true self! Right Dum-dum?

Saruman: Yeeeeessssssss?????

Richard: Heehee.

Darken Rahl: I love it when he does that. Heehee!

Saruman: Ok, so why am I Durza's brother?

Me: Cause you were born that way, we just discovered it.

Durza: Really?

Me: No, but come on. You guys make a great pair. Your weirdness, and his stupidity.

Legolas: I like Slim Fast.

Me: Ok, cool…

Legolas: Do you have a problem with that?

Me: No…not at all. Just wondering what that had to do with the subject.

Legolas: Oh, you were talking about food earlier…and I just thought of it.

Eragon: He was busy looking in the mirror.

Darken Rahl: He's touching me!!!!!!

Richard: Am not!!!!

Darken Rahl: Are too!!!

Me: Guys. Do I need to separate you???

Richard and Darken Rahl: No.

Me: Come on, guys. Think. Questions!

Richard: How old is your brother?

Me:…Um, why do you care?

Richard: Maybe he wants to hang out with us!!!

Me: Yeah, sure…

Richard: So how old is he?

Me: He's 13.

Richard: Dang it.

Me: Why?

Richard: Stop it, Rahl!!!!!

Darken Rahl: Heehee.

Eragon: Dude, these guys are weeee-iiird.

Legolas: I refuse to speak to them. I'm going to ignore them.

Me: Why?

Legolas: I'm skinnier, I'm taller, _and_ I have longer hair.

Eragon: I have a question!!!!

Me: Ok?

Eragon: Why is Legolas's dad so weeeeiiiirrrrrrd?

Me: Cuz that's just how he is.

Eragon: But he's OCD!!!! About everything! He gets mad at me when I say 'dude'. And when I say cool beans.

Me: Well, like I said, that's just how he is now.

Durza: *Grins *

Me: What?

Durza: Wait, what? Are you talking to me?

Me: Uh, yeah, kinda.

Durza: Oh, sorry, I was listening to them.

Me: We kinda all are.

Durza: You can hear them too?!?!?!?!?!

Me: Duh, we're in the same room.

Durza: *Looks confused * Ok, now I'm confused. I don't see them anywhere.

Me: Are you blind?

Durza: I guess so…Shut up, I'm not talking to you.

Me: What?

Durza: Oh, they're just being obnoxious again. *Waves hand randomly *

Me: Oooooohhhhhh…I see.

Richard: What? What do you see?!?! I wanna see!!!!!

Darken Rahl: Me too!!!! Let me see!!!!!

Me: He's nuts.

Richard: Who, Rahl? Yeah, he is.

Darken Rahl: Hey!

Me: No, Durza. He hears voices.

Legolas: AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!! You mean, he's crazy???

Me: Yeah, pretty much.

Saruman: I could have told you that.

Me: Well, you forgot to mention that.

Richard: Tag! You're it! No tag-backs!!!

Darken Rahl: Hey!!!!! No fair!!!!!

Eragon: Dude, so I have a question.

Me: Finally.

Eragon: Hey! I've been asking a bunch of questions!

Me: I know, but nobody else is. Ok, what is it?

Eragon: Where are we gonna live?

Me: With your father.

Eragon: I'm confused

*In the far distance * Luke Skywalker: Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Eragon: Dude, what the heck?

Me: Ok, seriously. You'll be back and forth between Middle-earth and Alagaesia.

Eragon: Sweetness.

Richard: I said no tag-backs!!!!!

Me: And you guys…

Richard: Me?

Darken Rahl: Me?

Me: Yeah.

Richard and Darken Rahl: What?

Me: Richard, you sit over there. Rahl, you sit over there.

Richard and Darken Rahl: *Start to cry *

Me: Oh, my gosh.

Richard: I don't wanna live in the corner!!!!!

Darken Rahl: Me neither!!!!!!

Me: No, you guys are gonna be by a duck pond. This is just temporary.

Richard: I like ducks. Is there pot roast there?

Darken Rahl: And fingers? I don't want him pulling mine.

Richard: Yeah, that makes the air smell bad.

Me: Nice. TMI, guys, TMI.

Legolas: That's why I ignore them.

Durza: I find them rather fascinating. Don't you, Dum-dum?

Saruman: Yeeeeeessssss.

Richard: Heehee.

Darken Rahl: I love it when he does that. Heehee!

Me: Wow. You guys are something.

Richard: Are you hitting on me?

Me: Ew. No way, dude.

Richard: Good, because I like Kahlan.

Darken Rahl: I like to poke Richard.

Me: Cool…I guess. No, you know what? I don't care.

Darken Rahl: *Starts to cry * B-b-b-b-but…

Me: And you guys didn't separate, either.

Darken Rahl: *Pounds his head on the table *

Durza: Like I said: fascinating. Fine specimens. Would you like a cookie?

Saruman: Cookie, cookie, cookie!!!!!

Me: Um, sure…

Legolas: I refuse to eat cookies. I might gain fat.

Me: Alrighty then.

Durza: Would the two time-out people like cookies?

Saruman: Yes, yes, yes! Cookie, cookie, cookie!!! Soda pop…? *Starts wandering around randomly *

Me: Ok, well…I guess that's good enough for today. You guys wanna say goodbye?

Richard: *Looks at Darken Rahl and starts crying * Noooooo!!!!!!!!!

Me: To the readers.

Richard: …Oh. Yes!

Me:…So?

Richard: Oh, right! Bye bye!!!!!!!!!

Darken Rahl: I hate goodbyes. *Starts crying *

Durza: Bye! Say bye, Dum-dum.

Saruman: Yeeeeessssss. Bye. Soda pop… *Continues wandering *

Richard: Heehee.

Darken Rahl: I love it when he does that. Heehee!

Legolas: I refuse to speak. I have the right to remain silent.

Me: You're talking right now.

Legolas: No, I'm not!

Me: Yeah, you kinda are. Just say bye.

Legolas: Fine. But I don't mean it.

Me: Ok, whatever. Say it.

Legolas: Fare-well.

Eragon: Dude, what the heck? We're done already? But I had so many questions…

Me: Well, if the readers have questions, then they can _reivew_ **(A/N hint, hint)** and then we can go over a few more in another interview.

Eragon: Ok, fine…bye, peoples!!!!!

Me: Ok, now my turn…but I still have to write an author's note, so I'll say it there.

Eragon: Dude, what the heck is an author's note?

Me: *Rolls eyes * I'll explain later.

**A/N And????? What did you think??? Let me know!!!!!!! Any questions? If you have ANY at all, let me know, and let me know if you want another interview. I can do that next chapter, or I can do it again later on.**

**Review = Virtual Amazingness, plus a shout-out in the next chapter**


	2. What The Heck Happened?

**A/N This one is written by my brother, who's username is Piutebob**

Eragon swung his sword toward the left side of Murtagh's head, which Murtagh easily blocked.

"Haha, come on, at least _try_ to hit me," Murtagh taunted.

That frustrated Eragon. He swung harder and faster, this time aiming for his belt. Easily blocked as well.

"You know, I'm just going to let you tire yourself out with your brawn, and when you're tired, then I'll finish you off," Murtagh commented.

Eragon could not let Murtagh win. It wasn't life or death, though, because they were just sparring for fun. But his ego would possibly come out wounded. He tried an 'advanced' move. He swung for Murtagh's head, then changed direction and went for his feet. Murtagh merely jumped over the blade and laughed at him.

"Ugh, let's take a break," Eragon said, out of breath.

"Fine." He sat down. They were sitting in Bilibo Baggins's back yard. Eragon looked at the window and caught a glimpse of Bilbo spying on them. Eragon waved at Bilbo casually, who ducked quickly.

"Ready?" Murtagh asked Eragon.

"I guess so."

They got up and started sparring again.

"Wow, you're worse then you were _before_ the break," Murtagh said.

Eragon quickly sat down and started to pout.

"You'll get better," said Murtagh. Eragon nodded amidst his tears. He got up.

"Okay," he sobbed, "If you really think so."

They continued. Shortly after that, it seemed Eragon had forgotten what bad mood he had been in. He was smiling, even.

Suddenly the ground turned dark, thanks to a shadow moving across the sun. With a swooshing sound, Murtagh disappeared.

"Dude, what the heck?!" Eragon exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the side. He sat down to contemplate what (the heck) just happened. Somewhere to his right, he heard a voice.

"This isn't the right place. We're lost," said the voice.

"We're doomed," stated a second voice.

"Oh, don't be so morose, Rahl. If we're together, we're never lost! Tag! You're it! No tag backs!"

"Richard! That's not fair!" yelled the second voice, whose name apparently was Rahl.

Eragon rolled his eyes. His brother just disappeared, and they were goofing off!! Then the two started chasing each other. They quickly disappeared into the distance.

Eragon jumped at an older voice behind him.

"Eh? Where did that other kid run off to? The—the emo one," it croaked.

Eragon whipped his head around. It was Bilbo. "He's not emo," he whimpered. "He's Murtagh."

"What kind of a name is Murtagh?"

"What kind of a name is Bilbo?"

Bilbo glared at him. "Anyways, I came out here to tell you to scram, because I'm leaving. I have to go back to the University. It looks like the emo kid already did. Now, scram!"

Eragon quickly jumped up and ran.

"If you don't grab your sword, I'm bringing it to the University for show and tell to the students!" Bilbo called after him.

Eragon ran back, grabbed the sword. Then he turned around and bolted.

Eragon was in Michel Delving. He asked a passing hobbit where the nearest hotel was.

"Oh, just walk down Michel Delving Road, then take a right on Michel Delving Street. Keep going, then take a left onto Michel Delving Avenue. Then, your next right will be Michel Delving Court. Just keep going till you find the Michel Delving Hotel," said the hobbit.

Eragon muttered a thanks. He noticed the hobbit looking at him expectantly.

"Do you need something?" Eragon asked.

"Oh, it's just a custom in the Shire, that when someone gives you help, you give them a pie."

"Well, you know what? I'm not from around here. Your customs don't apply to me. And if I run, are you gonna catch me?" Eragon broke into a run, taking a right on Michel Delving Street.

Left in the dust, the hobbit could only murmer: "I just wanted a pie."

Eragon was laying down on his bed, trying to stay awake. He slowly nodded off against his will, and dreamed a strange dream:

He was running through deep snow; running from something. He didn't know what, just that it was going to eat him. He looked over his shoulder. Since he wasn't looking where he was going, he tripped on something. Probably snow. Then he saw a shimmering apparation. It was talking. It said, "Eragon, you must go to the Dagobah system. There you meet will a little green toad who will try to eat your dinner and steal a flahlight."

"Dude, what the heck is a flashlight?" Eragon responded.

"I don't know," it said. Eragon heard a swooshing sound, and the apparation disappeared with a yelp. The creature Eragon had been running from caught up with him and ate him.

"Dude, what the heck!" he yelled as he woke up.

**Ok, review, review, review!!!**

***Shoutouts to the wonderful people who took the time to read and review: **

**Danaxiel**** – Thanks so much!!!!! Yes, randomness is wonderful. Good for the soul. What would life be without it?**

**Daxovan – Definitely will keep writing! Thanks!!!!**

**The Secret Sauce – Awesomeness, dude! Thanks a bunch!!!**

**You guys rock my world (And Piutebob's as well). Keep reviewing!!!**


	3. Da Bomb

A/N Sorry I haven't updated…I've been super busy. But school is almost out! Hallelujah! So that will hopefully give me more time to update this.

**Thank you so very much to Mainn, Daxovan, and Danaxiel for the awesome reviews ** ** You have no idea how encouraging it is to get those…now if only we could get more readers. Tell your friends about this wacky, crazy story!**

**Okay, this chapter is written by BloodRansom…last one was by Piutebob.**

Now, on with the madness.

Murtagh was in the air. That was obvious. He felt a set of large claws around his waist. _Well, this is annoying._ He looked down; good thing he wasn't scared of heights. Fooling around with dragons had taught him that much. _Ugh. So now one of them is taking me on an "adventure". Wonderful. Poor Eragon._ Oh well. He shrugged. "Dragons will be dragons."

Legolas walked through the hallway of his father's house. Okay, let's rephrase that: he skipped through the halls of his father's palace. Humming an interesting tune, he turned the corner, almost tripping over his friend Gimli.

"Oh, hi down there!" he said brightly. "Didn't see you."

"Hmph. Stop the jokes about being a Dwarf…there's nothing wrong with it."

"No no no no no! Nothing _wrong_ with it; it's just fun to tease you for it." He smiled at his friend and patted him on the head. "No harm done, right?"

Gimli growled. "And now he's patronizing me," he grumbled.

"What was that?" Legolas asked him.

"Nothing."

Legolas shrugged. "Okay, whatever. What are you doing in here anyway?"

"Looking for you. I wanted to know if you wanted to do something today."

"Like what?"

"Oh, we could go bother some old Elf, or something…"

"What else did you have in mind?" questioned Legolas, not really wanting to get in trouble for that so soon after the last time.

"Hmm. We could go see if Haldir is around," Gimli suggested.

"You only want to do that because the kid thinks you're the bomb. He actually thinks you're cool," said Legolas, making a face. He was puzzled as to why an _Elf_ would think his friend was that cool.

"Legolas, you have to say it 'da bomb'. That's why he doesn't think you're 'da bomb'. You aren't cool enough." Gimli was so sure of his coolness. It irked Legolas; he was used to being the princess, er, _prince_, of his father's home. Gimli's assurance that he was so cool had started when he had begun hanging out with Eragon. Eragon was known by Legolas's group to be a really cool, in, popular guy. Thus, Gimli started hanging out with him, leaving Legolas feeling jealous and sad. It all turned out well, though, because Legolas wasn't excluded. He just felt like they were a bit too 'G' for his taste…he wasn't really into the gangster thing. Oh well.

"Well, I'm not a gangster, so don't try to make me one."

Gimli grinned at him. "You aren't a gangster, duh. But is it cause you don't want to be one or cause your dad is so strict and would kill you, me, Eragon, and anyone else in the area if you turned 'G'?"

"I don't want to be one. I think it's a stupid stereotype, and I will not have any part of it." He drew himself up to his full height, so he towered even higher above his short friend. Eragon actually didn't act like a gangster…Gimli was the one who had exaggerated his 'coolness', and turned it into this. Because of all this, Haldir, Legolas's younger cousin, thought Gimli was 'da bomb', and hung out with him any chance he got. Of course Gimli loved the attention.

Gimli laughed. "I knew it. So what do you want to do?"

Legolas thought for a moment. What _did_ he want to do? It was a good question. He had been planning on just listening to music for a while, but since Gimli was here, that was out of the question. They had very differing tastes in music. Gimli loved gangster rap, while Legolas had different preferences. "Hmm. We could go to the skatepark…" Legolas knew this was something both he and Gimli enjoyed, and it made Legolas feel better because he was better at it than Gimli was. Of course, Haldir was much better than either of them, so it made him grumpy when he came with them.

"Yeah! Maybe Haldir will be there!"

Legolas rolled his eyes, not worried that Gimli would see…after all, he was so much shorter. "Well, I suppose…"

"You don't like your own cousin?" Gimli asked, in pretend mortification.

"Yes, I do. I just find your fascination with him amusing," he answered, drawing out the 'muse' part of the word.

"Whatever. I just think he's a cool kid. So do you wanna go to the skatepark?"

Legolas nodded. The skatepark would be fun.

He called out to his dad, letting him know where they were going, then remembered that his dad was at the movie theater. The theater manager couldn't be happy about that. He rolled his eyes, glad he would be out of the house when his dad got back. He didn't want to hear his dad tell him all about a movie, without actually telling him what it was about. He would describe the characters, and the setting, and all the unimportant details, but never explained the plot. Legolas knew that this was because his father usually watched gory, death-filled movies, and didn't want his _precious son_'s mind to be polluted by that kind of stuff. Little did Thranduil know that Legolas usually watched those movies in the same theater as his father. Thranduil was definitely overprotective, but not nearly observant enough to be very effective.

Gimli and Legolas skated to the skatepark. "Hey! Look over there!" Gimli brought Legolas's attention to the side of the paved road.

"At what?"

"The dudes there."

Now Legolas could see them. There was a guy with longer dark hair, and one with shorter, slightly lighter hair.

"Tag! You're it! No tag-backs!" the dark-haired one yelled, after poking the lighter-haired one.

"No fair, Rahl!" He sat down to pout.

Legolas and Gimli continued on.

"Weirdos," Gimli said.

Legolas laughed. Simply because they seemed to enjoy playing childish games like tag, they were weirdos in Gimli's opinion.

After a few more minutes of skate-boarding, they reached the skatepark.

"Hey guys!" Haldir came skating up; he always seemed to be here.

"Yo, Haldir!" Gimli said, trying to sound gangster.

"Hello, cousin," Legolas said, trying _not_ to sound gangster.

"What's up? You here to skate?"

"Fo shiz!" Gimli said loudly.

Legolas rolled his eyes. _Ugh,_ he thought. "Of course, Haldir."

Haldir grinned, obviously amused at the difference between the two friends. "Sweet. I've been here for a while now."

They started skate-boarding, doing stunts, and crazy things. Legolas couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadistic satisfaction every time Gimli messed up. He liked his friend, but Legolas had a major elitist complex.

**A/N: Okay, sorry it took a while to write, but my computer got a virus yesterday, and I was writing one of my other stories, which will be updated soon too. If you haven't read Black Moon, consider doing so ** ** But anyway, reviews are always loved!**


	4. Enter Vicious Carbuncle

**A/N Sorry we haven't updated in so long! Please don't stab us with sharp objects! We're not all invincible like Richard and Rahl…Anyway, here's another chapter. This one's by Piutebob. If it isn't any good, go flame him.**

**Piutebob: Nooooo!**

**Me: Shut up.**

**Richard: Teehee!**

**Rahl: Teehee!**

**Me: Oh, and if you read Gandalf out loud, it's much funnier. You shouldn't be somewhere where you can't make noise anyway, because you will end up laughing. I hope.**

Frodo Baggins was sitting on a chair in Roran and Garrow's living room, talking with Eragon, who had recently arrived from a tiring journey.

"And then he was like, 'Will I get better?' And then I was like, 'Yeah. Don't worry about it! You just need to get warmed up.' So Murtagh got up and stopped crying. We continued sparring, and all of a sudden, the ground went dark, like nothing you've ever seen in your short person's life, and Murtagh just disappeared! Just like that! Poof! Gone!" yelled Eragon.

Frodo rolled his eyes, knowing full well that this was the _exact _opposite of what really happened. Eragon like to change the story around to make the other person seem like the underdog.

"Die! Die! Die!" yelled Roran. He was playing_ Call of Duty: Black Ops_ on his Xbox 360 Elite (Just one of his many gaming consoles). Everyone in the village of Carvahall really thought that Garrow was just a poverty-stricken, overweight farmer. In actuality, Garrow had _the_ most impressive TV and stereo hook up. State-of-the-art sound and picture.

The villagers just didn't know that.

"Shut up, Roran! I'm trying to talk!" Eragon exclaimed.

"Shut up, Eragon! I'm trying to play! Be quiet so I can concentrate!" yelled Roran.

"What's going on in there?" asked an exasperated-sounding Garrow from his bedroom.

"Eragon keeps ruining my concentration with his talking!" Roran complained.

"Roran keeps ruining my conversation with his yelling and the video game volume being up too loud!" whined Eragon.

"Do I need to come in there and settle this?" threatened Garrow.

"Yes," said Roran.

Garrow seemed to hesitate. "…Ok. Roran, roll me in."

"But I—"

"_**Do it!**_" screamed Garrow.

With a groan, Roran got up and walked to the other room. He came back rolling an enormous, literally round person in. Seriously round. Like an overgrown beach ball.

Eragon leaned over to Frodo. "See why I call him my vicious carbuncle?" he whispered in Frodo's ear.

"Carbuncle? What?" asked Frodo.

Eragon rolled his eyes. "Separate the two syllables, dummy."

"Oh! Carb Uncle! Cause he's fat!" yelled Frodo. "I get it!"

Eragon winced as Garrow turned toward Frodo, his face red. "_I AM NOT FAT! IS THAT CLEAR?" _he bellowed.

"Y-yes, sir!" said Frodo, scared of the angry fat man.

"Good," said Garrow. "Now, what was this dispute I had to arbitrate?"

"Well, Eragon keeps talking! It ruins my concentration, so I can't play!" Roran complained again.

"Then don't play," said Garrow.

"What—No!" Roran cried.

"What's your complaint, Eragon?"

"Well, he keeps yelling, and I'm trying to talk! _And_ the volume is up too loud!" Eragon moped.

"The volume on him or the video game?" asked Garrow.

"Both!" Eragon exclaimed.

"Well, then, Roran, you can keep playing, _if_ you turn the volume down," said Garrow.

"Well, what about my concentration level?" asked Roran.

Garrow rubbed his face on the wall, and sighed. "Right. Eragon, you keep it down, too."

"Yes, uncle."

"And no more fat uncle jokes."

"Yes, uncle."

Just then, Darken Rahl walked into the room, followed by Richard, who did not have a cleaver in his hand.

"I smell pot roast!" exclaimed Richard.

"Me too!" said Rahl.

"What good noses you have. That's what we're having for dinner," said Garrow.

"Rahl, there's been a change of plans. We're staying for dinner!" whooped Richard.

Frodo was thinking about how weird—not to mention rude—it was to invite yourself for dinner. In the Shire, people get thrown in jail for that.

"Yay!" shrieked Rahl.

"I love pot—" started Richard, then stopped. He was looking at Frodo with a strange gleam in his eye. "What nice fingers you have, Frodo. May I hold them?"

Frodo hesitated, wondering what Richard was going to do. He noticed Darken Rahl rolling his eyes. Without waiting for an answer, Richard snatched Frodo's fingers into his hand and began stroking them.

"Roran, I need to check on the pot roast—" started Garrow.

"Pot roast!" crooned Rahl.

"As I was saying, Roran, would you roll me into the kitchen?" requested Garrow.

No response.

"Roran?"

"Die! Die! Die!" Roran screamed at the television screen. His screeches were followed by rapid gunfire.

"They're shooting at us, Richard! Run!" shrieked Rahl, his voice cracking.

"Just a second!" Richard howled back, hacking Frodo's left index finger off with a cleaver. He bolted out the door after Rahl, clutching his precious possession.

"What? Seriously? You've _got_ to be kidding me," sighed Frodo.

Gandalf was drinking. Again. But that was okay. Saphira was drinking too. Gandalf was her drinking buddy. Except, when Gandalf was drunk, he did take on a strange behavior.

"Sho, Shmoo, you shee, shmis Shmelrond, heesh sho shtrangey, in shme shtrangesht wayshesh. Sheck, she doshen't shmeven shmamblesh!" said Gandalf, in his loud drunk voice.

**(Translation: So, Saphira, you see, this Elrond, he's so strange, in the strangest ways. Heck, he doesn't even gamble!)**

_Not everyone gambles, Gandalf, _she said, hiccuping occasionally.

"Shno! Shmat's shme shmeerdest shming! Shmey shmould shmamble! Shmeshmeeshmoo shoo shoshen't shmamble ish shmeerd!"

**(Translation: No! That's the weirdest thing! They should gamble! Everyone who doesn't gamble is weird!)**

_Why is it_—Saphira paused to hiccup—_that everyone who doesn't gamble is smeared?_

"SHNO! Shnot shmeared! Shmeered! Shmere'sh a shmugey shifferenshey!" exclaimed Gandalf.

**(Translation: No! Not smeared! Weird! There's a huge difference!)**

****Saphira rolled her giant blue eyes. _So why are they weird?_

"Shmeecushe shmey shmon't shmamble!"

**(Translation: Because they don't gamble!)**

_I see, my friend. Oi, Gandalf!_

"Shmickenshmackingshmoi?" asked Gandalf.

**(Translation:_?)**

_I daresay, _*hiccup *_, are those people… playing poker?_

"Shmy shmoodydoody! Shme shmoves shmoakal!" yelled Gandalf.

**(Translation: My goodness! I love poker!)**

Gandalf went over to join them—albeit in a slowly, walking in drunk-like manner, tripping over his nose and whatnot. He sat down heavily with a noise like _skebunk_. "Shmeal shmee shmomee shmalds!

**(Deal me some cards!)**

Darken Rahl looked at him funny. "Are you drunk?"

"I'm not a shkunk…" muttered Gandalf.

**(I'm not a skunk)**

Rahl rolled his eyes. "Whatev. What's your name?"

"Shmandalf."

**(Gandalf)**

"…Okay, Shmandalf. Wait till the next hand."

"Shmy shame shims SHMANDALF! Shnot Shmandalf. Shand shee shmext shmand shims SHNOW!"

**(My name is Gandalf! Not Shmandalf. And the next hand is now!)**

Rahl looked at him oddly, like he was from another story. **(*snickers*)**

"I won! Can I hear a '_Whoop, whoop!_'?" yelled Richard from across the table.

"Whoop, whoop!" yelled Rahl. "Okay, next hand. Big blind—why _do_ they call it blind?—is Richard, Small blind—why _do_ they call it blind?—is Shmandalf."

"How shmuch moneys shims shme shmack shmind?" asked Gandalf.

**(How much money is the small blind?)**

Rahl nodded and said, "Good point. Okay, put your money in."

Gandalf made a guess and put 20 Shire Moneys in.

Richard put in 50.

The cards were dealt. Gandalf had a royal flush.

"Shma! Shmeed shmand shweep!"

**(Ha! Read and weep!)**

Richard went into the Avatar State. He raised his hand and a large boulder flew in through the window. He was about to smash Gandalf when Rahl intervened.

"Hey, Ricky! Let's go get some cookies at Durza's!"

Richard's eyes went back to normal color. The boulder fell on top of Gandalf. "Okay!" He and Rahl ran out of the tavern.

"Shmey, Shmoo! Shemp shmee shmet shis shmouldering off of shmee."

**(Hey, Saphira! Help me get this boulder off of me.)**

Saphira rolled her giant sapphire eyeballs and swiped the boulder away with a claw, cutting Gandalf's legs off.

"Shmee shmo shmugof shmexty shimey!"

**(Be more careful next time!)**

_Yes, Gandalf._

**A/N R&R PLEASE. Yeah, was it funny?**

**Gandalf: Shmof shmoursh it shmuz.**

**Me: Umm…okay. Well, anyway. We love to hear your opinions!**


	5. Superball Sunsay

**Yes, we are aware that it's not Valentines Day. It really isn't even close. But we started writing this, and decided that we had to put it up, no matter the time of year. You'll probably get a Christmas Special in May or something. Besides, the randomness is only accentuated by the odd timing, right?**

**Piutebob A/N Happy Superball Sunsay. Debussy wrote this chapter.**

**_MY_ A/N: He (Piutebob, not Debussy…Debussy's dead) wrote _part_ of this chapter. The part that makes no sense. Not that any of it makes sense…Well, we have some explaining to do, so don't have a seizure when you see an authors' note randomly in this chapter. It would be quite unfortunate if you had to go to the hospital because of an authors' note. **

Saruman delightedly sat down on the large sofa in the middle of his sun room. This was the room where he watched the Superbowl every Sunday.

"No pun intended, of course," said Saruman. Shut up, you.

Anyway, he watched the Superbowl every Sunday. I already said that, didn't I?

Why does he watch it every Sunday? [creepy alien voice]Because it's cool. [/creepy alien voice] He tapes it every year, and mourns the outcome every time. Every Sunday, that is.

Moving onward, he plopped down on his enormous sofa. He picked up his Wii Remote and turned on the TV. He sighed in contentment, for the TV was already on the channel playing the Superbowl. The odds for that are approximately 4,772:4,772 on Superbowl Sunday. It's like it knows…

**A/N: Okay, well don't have a seizure. Here's the authors' note I told you about! Piutebob (not Debussy) wrote that last part. Can you tell? Anyway. This next part would confuse you dreadfully if I did not save your sorry butts from confusion with this lovely author's note. Am I confusing you? **

Roran roared as Eragon tried to change the channel. "I was playing!"

"I know, dummy. I'm gonna watch the Superbowl!"

"As am I," exclaimed the Vicious Carbuncle. **(A/N you **_**do**_** remember who that is, right?)** He grinned and rolled over nearer to the TV. "Turn it up!"

"Okay!" Eragon squeaked.

Roran screeched. "I WANNA PLAY HALO!"

"Sucks for you," remarked his father.

Roran slithered to his rocking chair and sucked his fingers, one by one.

Garrow hollered when he saw his favorite team, the Packers, frolic onto the field. Roran glared daggers at him. Garrow dodged nimbly, licking his chops.

**BloodRansom wrote this…**

**A/N I bet you were confused by the last author's note. Maybe I should explain now. Please don't have a seizure. It would be extremely depressing. Then we would have to add another warning on our summary, and we would rather not have to do that. Imagine: We are not liable for seizures experienced during author's notes. Piutebob says I'm wasting space, which I suppose is true. Now I really _will_ explain. So you don't die. You see, the kings, rulers, and such of Middle Earth are part of a little club. They call it a Secret Society, but everyone knows about it, so that's not exactly secret. They get together once a month to celebrate being alive, being the boss of everyone, and being random. They take turns picking (on the second Tuesday of each month) and do random things together. For example, Thranduil _always_ (well, not always) has a Magic: The Gathering tournament. The Witch King tends to do racist, sadistic things to hobbits, and King Dain of the Dwarves enjoys an afternoon of tea-drinking and water-spitting. Understand? Good. They are having a Superbowl Party at Thranduil's house.**

Aragorn groaned in disappointment when Thranduil chose channel two hundred and fifty-three instead of four hundred and thirty-one. Channel four hundred and thirty-one was Aragorn's favorite.

Sauron waved his hands in a diplomatic manner. "It shows the exact same things, Aragorn."

"I don't care." He glared at the Elf king. "I don't like this channel." He folded his arms and pouted.

Thranduil raised his nose into the air in a haughty manner. "I like _this_ channel, and it's my big, large, humongous, beautiful house. So there."

Aragorn refused to look at him and continued to glare at thin air.

The Witch King, Morgol, grabbed a handful of chips, and stared at Michel Delving hungrily. Michel Delving shrank into a corner.

Celeborn glanced around. "Where the heck did that hobbit run off to?"

Dain bounced up and down on his fat rear end and fell off the couch.

Thranduil stared at him witheringly, and rolled his eyeballs in the direction of Sauron. Sauron glanced away and tried not to get involved in his drama.

"The Steelers are so winning," said Aragorn tauntingly, forgetting his previous displeasure.

"Nay, surely not," answered Sauron. "The Packers, obviously."

Aragorn got grouchy again and threw the popcorn against the wall. Then he grabbed a handful off the floor and shoved it down Thranduil's shirt.

Thranduil squealed in dissatisfaction and slapped him in the face.

Morgol glared at the TV, wishing the game would start already.

**This section's by Piutebob.**

Saruman grinned with satisfaction as the announcer began his monologue in a melodramatic tone. This was the show he loved! The two greatest teams in the current football season gather to beat each other to a yellowish pulp. Durza came prancing in. "Whatcha watching?"

Saruman rolled his eyeballs around on top of the table. "Do you _really_ have to ask? On this day, of all days."

"Dum-dum."

"Yeeee-eees?"

"Teehee!" said Richard.

"I love it when he does that! Teehee!" said Darken Rahl.

Saruman went back to drumming his fingers on his temples, waiting somewhat impatiently for the big game to begin.

**BR here**

Garrow secured himself in an upright position and belched loudly. Roran glared at him and threw an eyeball at him. Eragon screamed loudly and fell to the floor, spasming wildly **(present participle version of "spasm")**. Garrow chuckled and gnawed on the remote absent-mindedly. Eragon channel-surfed.

"Put your board away, kid." Garrow rolled his eyeballs and kicked the dog.

"Since when do we have a dog?" asked Roran.

"We don't, stupid." Garrow chucked a rock at his dumb son's head and cackled maniacally as it fractured his skull. He rolled over and screamed as his head hit the coffee table.

Eragon twiddled his toes and stuck his tongue into the air.

"Stop giggling, boys," Garrow grouched.

Roran spat at the TV and did a back flip.

**Piutebob got this.**

Saruman grunted as he overpowered his mighty, dashing opponent. "Well, that's that, I guess." He got up and jogged to the window, then looked out. A large axe was headed his direction. He hurdled toward it with a flying side-kick, knocking it out into the horizon. He thought he heard someone holler. He shrugged and began beatboxing, as he reentered his house.

Saruman paused as he heard Durza talking on the kitchen phone. Since he appreciated the fine art of eavesdropping, he decided to listen for a little. Hearing nothing of importance (just some end of the world garbage), he entered the kitchen and strode over to the refrigerator, looking for the butter. He couldn't find it. "Durza," he said, "do you know where the byooter is? I can't find it."

Durza screamed, throwing his outfit into disarray.

"You know, Durza, chandeliers aren't designed to hold a man's weight." Saruman shrugged and went back to the TV room.

His TV was playing a commercial, so he decided to watch it.

"Have you _ever_ wanted to eat things without gaining fat?" the ad howled in dismay. "If so, then you suck! If not, then our new product, the Sugar-full Pop-Tarts with an extra dosage of High Fructose Corn Syrup is the snack for you! Eat it with your Gatorade! Eat it right of the box! Eat it _with_ the box! The choice is yours with our Sugar-full Pop-Tarts with an extra dosage of High Fructose Corn Syrup!"

Saruman sighed.

**BR here again.**

Morgol growled menacingly at Michel Delving and grinned evilly to himself as the retarded hobbit cowered in fear. At least he had the brains to know when to be frightened. Aragorn threw himself out the window. Thranduil rolled his eyeballs. They popped open when he heard the themesong for the Superbowl. He clapped his hands in glee.

Michel Delving swore explosively in excitement. The TV screen exploded and fizzled black.

Thranduil screeched and ran to Legolas' room to fetch his television. He plugged it in and turned it on just in time.

The group of royalty sat contentedly as the teams danced onto the field. Aragorn screamed in excitement when he saw the Steelers.

Thranduil threw an axe at his skull and cheered for the Packers.

Michel Delving swore explosively.

The tree in the corner exploded.

Celeborn smiled at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall.

Morgol laughed hysterically as Legolas, dressed in a waitress's outfit, pranced into the room with a serving platter.

Sauron slapped Morgol, but gently, not wanting to hurt him.

Richard and Rahl cackled in glee.

**BR here again. Haha.**

Garrow attempted to dance around the room, shaking his fat booty in time with the beat that the drums created. Roran puked his lunch all over the floor and collapsed onto the ground.

Eragon laughed at his cousin's predicament, and turned his attention to the television.

Garrow settled himself in an upright position again to watch the game. He screamed himself hoarse when he saw the cheerleaders.

Eragon stared at his Vicious Carbuncle in horror.

**Piutebob's turn**

Saruman laughed with glee, since the game was about to begin. "Durza! The game is starting!"

Silence. Shunned once again by the crimson-haired tyrant. He watched as the Quarterback for the Packers began doing some strange little dance, ending in a face plant. The Quarterback got up again, his head hanging limply to one side, blood spurting with much gusto from his nose and mouth.

The cheerleaders began doing their depressing cheer routine, bringing a tear to Saruman's eye. The bands proceeded to do their annual rap battle.

They were halfway through the "Your mom" section when they were cut short by that loud, demonic voice that Saruman loved.

"And now, for the Epic Football Championship of DOOOM to commence!"

**BR's Turn**

After the first quarter, neither team had scored anything. The defense was extremely satisfying. Aragorn was getting less grouchy as the game got more exciting.

Thranduil was getting ready for a good, healthy debate with Celeborn about whose team was better. Celeborn really didn't care much for football, but he liked to make fun of the people who were obsessed with it. He also liked telling everyone that he was much better-looking than any of _those trashy cheerleaders_, according to him.

Michel Delving couldn't help himself and swore explosively every time the game got exciting. Every time he did, Sauron (who hated swearing) glared at him.

Morgol threatened everyone in the room several times. He smiled triumphantly when everyone ran to the corner and wept bitterly.

**Piutebob's Turn. Derp.**

Saruman rolled over in excitement. It was the middle of the second quarter and the Green Bay Packers had already scored 2 touchdowns and a field goal. Right now, though, they were looking for the football, since someone misplaced it. The refs blamed the Steelers' Quarterback. However, Saruman could _clearly_ see that it was the refs themselves. The Quarterback was arguing with them and flailing his arms so hard that one came off. This made the refs mad, so they pulled out a shotgun and shot him to pieces. This relieved his teammates immensely. They quickly elected a new Quarterback (one with a milder temper). The refs then charged toward the football-laying chicken and began choking it until it laid a new one. It did, and gameplay finally resumed.

Enter Durza. Saruman looked at him. "Man, you missed the best part! The refs laid waste to the Steelers' Quarterback!"

"I don't believe you," Durza uttered disbelievingly.

"I kid you not!"

"Well, I should hope so. I _am _older than you," said Durza.

"You may be older, but I was born first."

"Dum-Dum."

"Yeee-eees?"

"Teehee," said Richard.

"I love it when he does that! Teehee!" said Rahl.

**BR here**

Eragon scowled at Roran, who was blocking the TV.

"Get out of the way, loser. I want to see the half-time show!" he yelled.

Garrow chucked popcorn at Roran. "Foolish child, MOVE."

Roran screamed at the ceiling and threw his hands into the air. He shrieked again and leapt out the window, screeching like a banshee. Garrow shrugged and returned his attention to the television. He whooped as Green Day fell from the ceiling like ninjas. They began playing mad riffs and singing random notes, which caused Garrow to melt into a puddle of lumpy goo.

Eragon gave him a disgusted look and shook his head. "Fan-boy."

"I'm an American Idiot!" exclaimed Rahl.

"Well, I'm on Holiday!" howled Richard.

Garrow smiled, satisfied with life, as he listened to the strains of punk rock oozing out of the speakers.

Eragon sobbed when the Black Eyed Peas waddled onto the stage. They began screaming in dismay at Billie Joe. He glared at them and threw his guitar at Fergie before he stomped off the stage in a blind rage. The rest of the band followed after him, throwing evil looks at the hip hop group.

"WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE?" Garrow squeaked. "Green Day! Come BAAAAAAACK!"

Eragon rolled his eyeballs and shoved a mango in Garrow's mouth.

**BR again**

King Dain bellowed with glee when the Black Eyed Peas chased the punk rock band away. Michel Delving glanced over at him, saw his role model's reaction, and followed suit, yelling with inane pleasure when he saw the band.

Thranduil held his skull daintily. "My poor melon! It cannot take the obnoxious noise that hip hop is."

Aragorn fell to the floor, frothing at the mouth. "Hip hop is _death_!" he choked out.

Celeborn smiled and waved at his reflection again.

Morgol snorted with rage at the TV and ran it through with his big shiny new sword.

Dain moaned in distress and kneeled in front of the TV, clutching it and weeping bitterly.

"Legolas! Get your TV in here! Morgol killed this one!"

The reply came: "That _was_ my TV!"

"So? That's not my problem. Do something about it!" Thranduil hollered at his son.

A television sailed through the open doorway and landed right on top of the old one. Thranduil smiled. "Thank you, sonny-boy!"

The Black Pearl made port.

**PB's turney.**

Saruman started beatboxing to the beat of Black Eyed Peas. He was cut short by a loud boom somewhere in the concert hall. The illuminated men all went dark, and Fergie and the rest fell through the stage. A ref ran into the television view and proclaimed to all the world, "There has been a slight—" he paused, and listened to his walkie-talkie, then continued, "Scratch that. There has been a _major_ technical difficulty. The Black Eyed Peas are all but extinct. Now, we _could _break out some Justin Bieber, but we will not subject you to such terrible torture. Lawsuits and stuff. We are now going back to the game, to get this thing done and over with. Stressful junk, the lot of it."

Saruman sat there, mouth agape at the 'horrific' news of the Black Eyed Peas' sad fate. Durza cackled maniacally and slammed his face against the wall, then used magic to make Saruman do a jig.

**BR **

Middle Earth's royalty groaned and cheered with each touchdown (not that there were that many). Michel Delving dodged Morgol's blade several times, and Thranduil found himself with Dain's fingers around his throat.

When the game finally ended, the Packers' fans jumped up and down and screeched and hollered in joy. Dain and Michel Delving sat down and pouted. Sauron smiled quietly and Celeborn winked at his reflection.

Richard grinned in happiness and hugged Rahl, pleased that this football nonsense was finally over. Rahl leaned away and looked embarrassed at his sudden show of sisterly affection.

**Still BloodRansom**

Garrow rolled in circles happily when he saw the end of the game. Roran gored himself through the eyeball with a poker. Eragon jumped out of the way of Garrow's wild rocking.

"Vicious Carbuncle!" Eragon yelled. "Be more careful! You nearly skewered me with your fingers!"

"Hey, what did I tell you about fat-uncle jokes?" Garrow bellowed, swinging a baseball bat at his nephew's skull.

"Gah!" Eragon dodged, and hid under the coffee table, then bit Roran's toe when he tried to kick his teeth in.

Roran whimpered and sucked his toe where the teeth marks were. "Stupid cousins," he muttered angrily.

Garrow returned to his celebratory dance, shaking his disgustingly big booty around, and knocking over all the furniture.

**So yeah. Sorry it was so late. I'm sure this story hasn't crossed your minds in ages. But here it is! R&R pweez! **

**By the way, we're working on our Valentines Special ;) **

**And it's not the Superbowl either.**


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